Snape's Bitter Recollection
by StarToucher
Summary: After throwing Harry out of his office, Severus Snape looks into the Pensieve,  remembering what he went through with James Potter. But does he dare relive his worst memory? Severus enters the Pensieve to rewitness something he swore to forget forever.


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Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKRowling.

Summary: After throwing Harry out of his office, Severus Snape looks into the Pensieve, remembering what he went through with James Potter. But does he dare relive his worst memory? Severus enters the Penseive to relive something he swore to forget forever.

A/N: I know this has probably been done countless times, as it is basically Snape's Worst Memory from Snape's point of view, but i had the idea and i had to write it down. The events are the same as in my other story, A Lone Wolf's Reflection (Chapter 6) but seen through Snapes' eyes, not Remus's. Please read and review.

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Severus Snape was not a pleasant man, and he never had been. He had always been bitter, twisted and cruel, though not entirely evil. But the look on his face at that moment was one of pure hatred and loathing, and anyone looking at him would not have believed him to be anything but a hundred percent capable of murder. Or worse.

"How dare he!" he thought in fury. "How. Dare. He!" He was livid. He was more than livid. He was so angry he was shaking. His hands were curled tightly into fists, his face was white, and his breathing was ragged and uneven.

He had always hated Harry Potter. From the moment he had set foot in the dungeons for his first ever potions lesson all those years ago he had loathed every fibre of his being. The messy black hair, the self-important strut, the arrogant expression, so reminiscent of his father. He was his father in every way. Every minute detail. Except for the eyes. He knew those eyes.

He'd always tried to avoid looking into them, because they didn't evoke any feelings at all of hatred or loathing, and he had sworn to himself that he would never show even the smallest amount of pity or liking towards the son of his worst enemy. . Ever since the boy's first day, five years ago, he had wanted him out of Hogwarts, he had tried everything to get him expelled, using every power he had to try and get rid of the boy.

But every time he looked into those eyes he forgot who the boy was. All he saw in those eyes was Lily, the nearest thing to a friend he had ever had.

He swallowed, trying to shake off long ago memories, and then, seeing the Pensieve again, felt a renewed sense of hatred building up inside him. "HOW DARE HE!" Severus spat out loud. What he wouldn't give to have the boy thrown out now, to go to the headmaster, and to tell him what he had done. It would be as good an excuse as any to expel him. The boy had no right to look at his own memories, memories he had placed in the Pensieve so as to avoid exactly what had just happened. If he went to Dumbledore, he would have to punish the boy at the very least. Even he, who had stuck up for Potter so many times in the past, would surely see that something like this, this blatant invasion of someone else's privacy, could not be overlooked easily.

Except…he couldn't. The headmaster would undoubtedly wish to know what the memory contained. And Severus was no prepared to show it to anyone, not even for the sake of having Potter severely punished.

He looked into the Pensieve on his desk, placed his hands either side, and swilled the contents, staring down into the depths, his black eyes still flashing in anger. The scene reformed before his eyes. He was looking down at the great hall over the heads of hundreds of students. He knew that this was the scene that Potter had plunged into just minutes before.

Seuverus tried to steady his breathing, trying to block out everything, struggling to push it all to the back of his mind. But his eyes were still drawn to the Pensieve. He thought of the memory, the memory that Potter had just seen. He had tried to shut it out for so long. He had told himself that he had witnessed it once, and that he would never do so again. But now, as he looked into the magical stone basin before him, he felt reckless. Why shouldn't he see it again? What harm could it do? He had lived through much worse since then hadn't he?

He had made his decision. Taking a deep breath, he plunged head first into the Pensieve. At first everything swirled around before his eyes, and then the scene began to settle.

He was standing in the great hall. He looked down. Sitting at the desk he was standing by was his fifteen-year-old self. Bent low over an exam paper. Severus recognized the exam. A self-satisfied smile crossed his lips as he remembered that he had received an Outstanding, the highest grade possible.

A voice came from the nearby teacher, "Five more minutes."

Looking down, Severus saw his fifteen-year-old self still scribbling furiously, trying to cram as much on the paper as possible before time was up.

Severus looked around the hall. He saw Potter, sitting just a few rows back. He felt his stomach clench in fury. Not far from him was Black, who was lounging in his chair in his usual conceitedly self-conscious way. Severus only wished that the two of them could see the expression of loathing that was now present on his face. He wished he could pull out his wand there and then, and hex them. James would not be so cocky in the face of him now. Not now he was a fully-grown man. Not now he was a reputed Death Eater. Not now that he knew curses more terrible than could even be imagined by a fifth year Hogwarts student. He could almost sense his hand moving towards his robes, ready to grasp the handle of his wand and pull it out. But this was nothing more than a memory, a vision. It would do no good. He could not harm anyone inside a memory. Instead he contented himself with clenching his fists and looked around at the other students. Right at the end of the first row he saw Lily, who was rereading her paper looking thoughtful. Severus's heart skipped a beat and he looked away.

"Quills down please!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, almost walking through Severus as he passed the rows of students. "That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio!_"

Severus felt his lip curl with sardonic amusement as hundreds of rolls of parchment soared into the air and knocked the tiny little wizard of his feet. Who would have thought then that twenty years from this day he would actually be working alongside the silly old teacher? Not that he had anything personal against Flitwick, but he had seen the way he acted with the students. Soft, he would have called it. Far too lenient. And he was old now, and, in his opinion, was becoming fairly senile.

He watched disdainfully as a couple of students picked the professor up.

"Thank you… thank you," panted the tiny little wizard. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"

Severus watched as his younger self joined the crowd of students grouping round the doorway. He had his face buried in his exam paper. Idly, Severus wondered why he had been so interested in it at the time. It was only an exam, after all, and even at the time he had known that he was bound to get good marks. Defence Against The Dark Arts was without question his best subject. So why he had felt the need to walk along with his head buried in the question sheet was beyond him.

He followed his younger self as he walked to a clump of bushes, where he sat down in silence, still poring over the exam paper as if trying to learn it by heart. Severus had an urge to look around him. He had never explored this memory before. He had pushed it into the very back of his mind, not wanting to think about it. It was only when he had started giving Potter Occlumency lessons that he had removed it and placed it in the Pensieve. He had had no desire to have Potter even catch a glimpse of it if he accidentally broke through his defences. But now, witnessing the scene for the first time since the day it had happened, when he had been too absorbed in the exam paper to notice anyone else, he was able to look around, see what the others in the vicinity were doing.

He glanced over at the other side of the lake. Potter was sitting with his friends, showing off shamelessly with a Snitch that he had no doubt stolen from the Quidditch cupboard. Lupin was sitting beside him reading a book, that was nothing new, and Pettigrew and Black weren't doing much at all, though he noticed that Pettigrew was watching every move that Potter made, and kept bursting into applause. Severus watched him scornfully. Stupid little fool. Nothing better to do than tag round after two bigheaded show-offs. At the time, he had loathed him almost as much as Black and Potter, but now he just felt scornful. Scornful at how pathetic the little piece of vermin had really been. Nothing had changed, either. He was still tagging round with wizards far more powerful than himself, seeking protection from those he feared.

Black appeared to be talking, and as Potter stuffed the Snitch back in his pocket Severus felt suddenly tense, realising that he was soon going to witness something he had always sworn to forget forever.

His younger self had got up, and crumpled up the exam paper as he stuffed it in his bag. He still did not have a very fixed idea of where he had been heading that day. Severus moved slightly and stood by the edge of the lake, watching the scene from a safe distance, as if someone would notice him if he moved closer.

He watched, as the teenager moved across the grass, and then came face to face with Black and Potter.

"All right Snivellus?" said Potter, in his usual arrogant way. _Snivellus_. How he had loathed that nickname. And Potter's bigheaded influence on others had been so great that the name had unfortunately stuck. He had been Snivellus from the first year right through to the seventh, he remembered acidly.

He watched as Potter directed his wand at the other boy and sent a disarming charm. The wand flew out of his hand and landed on the ground. Severus swore under his breath, cursing his younger self for being so slow to react.

Then Black entered the fray. He laughed, and then pointed his wand at the boy's chest and said loudly "_Impedimenta!_" The boy was knocked off course before he could reach his wand lying on the floor. Severus felt his fists clench in fury. How he wished that Black was still locked up in Azkaban, or better yet, that he was just an empty soulless shell, courtesy of the Dementors. If possible he hated him even more than Potter. In any case, Potter was now long gone, even if he did live on in his dratted son. But Black was still alive to remind him of the past. He felt hatred welling up inside him as he thought of the man, who he had hoped never to see again, and who was now working, not only on the same side as him, but also under the same organization, with the same leader. The man he had to see almost every week when he brought the news of Voldermort to the Order meetings. He shook his head furiously to rid his mind of the torrent of angry thoughts and turned his attention back to the Pensieve scene.

Students were starting to crowd round. In fact, some were actually walking through Severus as they approached the lake to take a closer look. Severus snarled as a young Gryffindor boy passed millimetres away from him. "That's right, come and see the show," he hissed venomously. The boy didn't hear him of course. Severus was just a spectator to everything that was happening. Nothing he said or did would have any effect on anyone. And he couldn't change what had happened, much as he desired to.

At that point Severus debated leaving. He hadn't seen the worst. Did he really need to? Nothing was stopping him from exiting the Pensieve now and forgetting it, returning his memory to his mind, and pushing it right to the very back, the place where it had dwelled for the past twenty years.

His fifteen-year-old self lay gasping on the ground. He could still recall how all the breath had been knocked out of him. Black and Potter had their wands pointing at him as they advanced. He saw Potter look over his shoulder, and following his gaze, realised he was looking at the girls at the side of the lake. Lily was amongst them.

And Severus realised with a strange sensation in his chest that he was not going to go anywhere. He had vowed to stick it out, and that was what he was going to do. Because he had suddenly remembered that Potter had not come away completely on top. All thanks to Lily. Severus was even willing to re-witness the horrors he knew he had endured in this incident, if it meant that he could watch Potter be bettered by the girl he liked so much.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" Potter was crowing. Severus's eyes flashed. He was even more full of himself than he remembered, which was already a phenomenal amount.

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Black maliciously. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

As the watching crowd cackled with laughter, Severus clenched his fists so hard that his nails sunk into the palms of his hand, and he felt a trickle of warm blood seeping down his wrist. All that he wanted at that moment was to go and turn his wand on Black, to make him suffer more than he had ever suffered in his life, to pay him back for those cruel taunting words. But he knew that as this was a memory, sending a curse would only result in injuring himself or damaging the Pensieve. It certainly would do no harm to the memory of the fifteen-year-old Black.

He watched the figure struggling on the ground; it looked like he was bound by invisible ropes. He was kicking as if trying to free himself. Severus willed the boy to fight, even though he knew that nothing was going to happen. He had to keep reminding himself that this was him, that this was his teenage self, and that it didn't matter what he said or did, it was just a memory. Everything was going to happen exactly how he remembered. Or worse.

"You - wait," he heard the boy snarl. "You - wait!"

'Wait for what?' Black replied, his eyes glinting with a mixture of spite and amusement. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?" He taunted.

Severus snarled to himself. "Fight back you fool, why the bloody hell didn't you just fight back?" He knew all too well he had tried, but now, seeing the scene from the outside, it looked so easy just to summon his wand with a wave of his hand, remove the jinx binding him and turn the wand to Black and Potter. Of course, that sort of magic had been well beyond him at the time, but Severus was still seething as he saw that all that he had been able to manage was a stream of swear words, words that could do nothing at all to the two boys tormenting him, who possessed skins thicker than that of a rhinoceros.

"Wash out your mouth," said Potter coolly, pointing his wand at the face of his victim and saying: "_Scourgify!_"

Severus watched his younger self, gagging as bubbles streamed from his mouth. To an onlooker it seemed a harmless enough spell, but he could still recall the agony of not being able to breathe, feeling as though he was drowning, as the bubbles spewed from his mouth like foamy vomit.

Then his attention was caught by a red headed figure. She had moved away from her group of friends and was striding purposefully towards then scene at the edge of the lake, her lips pursed in an expression of sheer disapproval and contempt.

"Leave him ALONE!" The girl had arrived on scene, her red hair falling over her shoulders, and her green eyes flashing like emerald fire.

Potter ran his hand through his hair. Severus watched him with loathing. "Oh yes, suck up Potter. You thought you were so cool looking like you'd been caught in a hurricane. And now just see how many people you really impress." He thought sourly, as he watched the messy black hair stand on end.

But the worst of it was, that, in the end, Potter _had_ managed to impress Lily. He may have made a fool of himself for years, but in the end, he had managed to win her over. And as Severus watched, he knew it. Potter had been rejected too many times to count, but in the end his perseverance had paid off.

"All right, Evans?" he heard Potter say, making his voice deeper. He no doubt thought that it sounded more mature. To Severus's ears it merely sounded stupid.

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated. Her green eyes flashed as she stared at Potter, and Severus felt a small twinge of vindictive pleasure in knowing, that, at the time at any rate, she had hated him more than he could have imagined. "What's he done to you?"

"Well," said James, his voice positively dripping with amusement, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…" his voice trailed off in what he no doubt thought was an amusing end to his pathetic reply

As laughter echoed round the lake once more, Severus suddenly had an urge to move closer. He had been standing a small way a way from the scene, but now, he suddenly wanted to get nearer, to see Lily's reaction closer to. None of them could see him, after all. He walked quickly round behind Lily and stood just a foot away from Potter as she once again tried to defend the boy still struggling on the ground.

His lip curled as he heard Potter try and ask her out. "Good luck with that," he thought viciously.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," said Lily angrily, and Severus felt his lips twitch in grim satisfaction. She would go out with him eventually of course, but not for over another year, and Potter would suffer in the mean time, agonising over how to win her over.

"Bad luck, Prongs," Black said briskly. _Prongs_. That nickname. How he wished he had been more deductive at the time. Discovering about their Animagus transformations would have been a sure way of getting them expelled. If he had done it soon enough, he may even have been able to avoid the torment of the scene he was now witnessing. As it was, he had not found out at all. For three whole years, maybe even more, it had been right under his nose. All those years he had looked for ways to get them expelled, and it had been right there all along.

His attention was drawn once more to his younger self, as noticed, that, at long last, this was the moment he had fought back and send a curse at Potter's face. "A bit too late," he though grimly, but at least he had managed to draw blood from Potter's conceited features.

The grim satisfaction disappeared once more from his face as Potter pointed his wand at his younger self, and a moment later had him hanging upside down. "How dare you use my own spells against me," he spat angrily. Even though no one could hear him, it felt good to be able to say some of the things that he should have said all those years ago.

People in the watching crowd were cheering, as all that could now be seen of the younger Severus was his skinny, pale legs, and the grey underpants that he was wearing.

Even the adult Severus felt his face grow warm as he watched the scene before his eyes. Those underpants. Those dreadful, grey, worn out underpants that he had had no choice but to wear for so many years. And after this day he had suffered more taunts about them that he cared to admit.

Lily, still livid, and still at his defence, said angrily to Potter, "Let him down!"

'Certainly,' said Potter in a falsely obliging tone, and in an instant the figure was no longer hanging in the air, but was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Disentangling himself from his robes he got quickly to his feet, wand up, but Black directed his wand towards him and uttered the body-binding spell, and the boy was lying on the floor, rigid once again.

'LEAVE HIM ALONE!' Lily bellowed. For someone with such a delicate appearance she could yell when she wanted too, Severus thought wryly, raising an eyebrow. She had plunged her hand into her robes and pulled out her own wand. Severus felt a small amount of pleasure as he saw that both Black and Potter looked a little bit nervous. Neither one of them would have wanted to face Lily in a duel.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," Potter said smoothly, although his eyes gave him away. It was an empty threat. One, because would have never in a million years thrown a jinx at a girl he liked so much, and two, because Severus had a strong suspicion that her response would not have been pleasant, and Potter knew it.

"Take the curse off him, then!" She ordered.

Potter sighed, but did as she told him. Then turned to the younger Severus and drawled, "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Severus cringed as he heard the words leave the boys mouth. His mouth. What in the name of Merlin had possessed him to say that? Of everyone, she was the only person who had tried to defend him. Even Lupin, the good boy and the prefect, who, though almost as bad as Potter and Black, _had_ on occasions tried to prevent his friends from the constant antagonising, even if it were only to keep them out of trouble, was still sitting by the lake, reading as if nothing was happening. Lily had actually defended him, stood up for him in front of everyone, and what had he done? Just treated her like a piece of dirt. He swore bitterly to himself, as he looked at his fifteen year old face. It was full of anger and hatred, but underneath he saw slight shock at what he had just said to her. "Just say it," he growled. "Just apologise!"

_Apologise_. That was something he had never done in his life, and he knew that this was no exception. But if he had, if he had just let two words of sincerity and apology slip through his lips, everything might have turned out so differently.

Lily was looking hurt underneath her cool exterior, and Severus couldn't blame her. Mudblood was one of the worst insults you could give, and though he had used it on many people many times, both at Hogwarts and after, this was one person who truly didn't deserve it.

"Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_." Severus shut his eyes in frustration as the insulting nickname left her lips. If he was honest with himself, something that didn't happen often, he knew he had deserved it.

"Apologise to Evans!" Potter shouted at him. Severus growled in anger. The fact that that arrogant, strutting young man had actually had the nerve to try and make _him_ apologise made his blood boil.

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologise," Lily shouted, rounding on Potter. "You're as bad as he is."

"What?" spluttered Potter, Severus felt his skin crawl at Potters would-be innocent look. "I'd _never _call you a - you-know-what!" he finished in indignation.

Lily was furious. Severus listened with the deepest satisfaction as she yelled several things at him, including, much to his enjoyment, several insulting digs at his immaturity, before storming back to the castle. It had been almost worth this to see that. Almost, but not quite. Because he knew that the worst was still to come.

Potter was shouting after Lily as she disappeared from view. For a moment he looked like a deflated balloon. But Potter was too conceited to stay flat for long.

"What is it with her?" said he said, trying to feign indifference to what she had just said.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Black. He did not look overtly sympathetic. Maybe he enjoyed it a bit as well, Snape reflected. Black was always taking pleasure in other people's dismay. Maybe this was no exception, even if it was his best friend.

Potter's eyes gleamed madly. For a minute he looked positively demented, and then just like his arrogant self again. He pointed his wand furiously at the fifteen-year-old now standing before him, and in a flash of light the younger Severus was hanging upside-down once again, his wand falling from his grasp and onto the grass below.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" James yelled to the crowd, as the robes fell over the boy's head once more, and the underpants came back into view. "Well! Who does?" he roared, his voice louder than ever, and attracting many more spectators as it carried over the grounds. Cheers echoed from all around. Severus wanted to put his head in his hands, but this was the very reason he had plunged into this memory. This was why he had done it. He had come too far to turn away at the last minute. But it didn't stop him shaking his head in Potter's direction, and whispering, in a voice full of pure hatred, "Don't you dare."

It wasn't going to make any difference. He already knew what was going to happen. Black had his wand pointing at the upside down figure. "If you don't Prongs, then I will." He said malevolently. He was grinning evilly.

Even without the visual recollection that the Pensieve provided, Severus could remember every tiny detail of what happened next; the clearness of it was painful. James pointed his want lazily at Snape, directing it at the underwear, and slowly eased it off over his feet and let it drop to the floor. Severus felt himself sink to his knees, which, instead of hitting the soft grass that he appeared to be standing on, collided with the hard stone that was the bottom of the Pensieve. He barely noticed, even though it was painful. This was worse than he had remembered.

Even though no one knew he was there, even though none of the laughing, howling children knew that just behind them at that moment was the very person they were tormenting, only twenty-five years older, his face still felt like it was on fire. He groaned out loud and then to his disgust found that he was trembling. Mostly in anger, but also in shame and mortification, as he watched his younger self being submitted to one of the worst kinds of humiliation imaginable. As his shoulders shook slightly he cursed himself for loosing control. He never lost control of his emotions. Never. Even when he was alone he kept his face utterly blank, totally unreadable, and never let his actions give him away. It was what made him such a good spy. But at that moment, as he watched his fifteen-year-old self, upside down and stark naked from the waist to the feet, he couldn't help it.

Of all the things for Potter to do, why did it have to be this? Nothing could have been more humiliating than this.

The younger boys were sniggering. Older boys were howling in pitiless mirth. Severus heard several of them call out insults, insults he had never heard at the time, when he had been upside-down. And there were girls tittering, a little nervously it had to be said, but every one of them enjoying the show that Potter was putting on for them.

The younger Severus was swearing and cursing violently, and at the same time wriggling and kicking as if trying to free himself from the curse. Watching on the sidelines, Severus realised that it would have been almost a thousand times better if he had just kept still. The laughter, if possible, was intensifying as the crowd watched the upside down boy squirming vigorously. More insults were thrown from every direction and the adult Severus felt his face burn with a heat that felt strong enough to reduce a candle to a pool of wax.

Potter had lowered his wand, and his face bore an expression of satisfied amusement. He was one of the few not saying anything. His actions had already said more than enough. Next to him, Black was watching, unable to hide his laughter.

"That, Prongs," he said, in admiration, "is one of your best yet."

Severus, finally realising the pain in his knees, got slowly to his feet again. The initial horror was subsiding, the heat was dying from his cheeks, and although he still felt slightly sick with shame and anger, his burning hatred for Potter and Black had returned to the front of his mind, because for an instant it had been replaced by the terrible mortification that he had been put through.

Black was staring at the upside-down figure. "What now?" he asked wickedly.

Severus felt his fists clench yet again. Wasn't this enough?

Potter was looking thoughtful. He winked at his friend. Severus snarled out loud. His cockiness was overwhelming. Every single cell in his body was burning with a pounding desire to hex Potter with so many curses that he-

Severus couldn't even put it into words. He tried for the third time that day to steady his breathing as Potter neither said nor did anything, but merely watched, smirking. The laughter was not dying away. If anything it was becoming louder every second. The older boys were still calling out and hooting with laughter. The insults were becoming more and more hurtful.

Suddenly, in fury, Severus glanced towards the lake, where Potter's two other friends were sitting. Pettigrew, the little rat, was chortling into the palm of his hand, his eyes darting from Potter to Black, no doubt hoping for more. But Severus's eyes sought Lupin. He was the prefect, the symbol of authority. Wasn't it his job to ensure that something like this was stopped? Lupin had, at long last, turned away from his book. He was merely staring into the lake, and as Severus's eyes fell upon him, he looked up. Severus was surprised by the deep flush that covered his cheeks, but as he saw that Lupin was now watching his younger self as well, he felt a powerful surge of dislike towards the werewolf. True, Lupin had not called out or laughed, nor had he even smiled, but Severus was still furious. He wished now he had got rid of the werewolf two years ago when he had had the chance. All those times he had brought the shabby Defence Against The Dark Arts professor goblets of steaming potion. All those times he had made the potion perfectly. The Wolfsbane potion was a difficult concoction. How many people would really have been suspicious if he'd "accidentally" slipped up, if he had added jut _slightly_ too much of a certain ingredient?

Well, there was Dumbledore, of course. Severus thought bitterly. And raising the headmaster's suspicions was the last thing he wanted to do. All the same… Severus hissed as he gave the young werewolf one last look of pure resentment, and turned back to the scene that Potter was commanding so ruthlessly.

Ten minutes must have passed without Potter saying anything. Everyone else was still cackling, and even more students had arrived at the scene. The word had unfortunately spread round the grounds. People were arriving from all directions, unfortunately almost all of them younger students. No teachers or much older students who could put a stop to it all.

Then, without warning, Potter jerked his wand, and Severus saw his younger self crumple on the floor. His face was bright red from the combined effects of being upside down for a quarter of an hour, and the humiliation of what had happened. Severus watched the red-faced boy struggling furiously to untangle himself and escape the crowd with disdain. "How could you let that happen to you?" he spat out loud.

He suddenly felt very unreal. The fifteen year old whose eyes were now glistening with tears did not seem to be in any way linked to him. It felt as if he had just watched someone else suffer in the hands of an arrogant, black-haired teenager, someone else who was now enduring screams of mocking laughter as he snatched up a pair of greying underpants and ran up the castle steps, someone else who would have to listen to taunts for the rest of his days at school. It was a few seconds before he realised that he was shaking again. "Get a bloody grip," he snarled to himself. He had never felt less in control of his emotions.

He watched the last of the black robes whip through the great wooden doors and out of sight, and knew he had had enough. If he wanted to stay in the Pensieve he would have to follow his younger self into the castle, because it was his own memory. And he had no desire to do that. He knew that the skinny teenager would reach his common room and tear through it, watched by many eyes, some belonging to people who had already heard what had happened, others who would hear about it within the next few hours. He knew that, once lying on his bed, the tears would come, coursing down his pale cheeks, tears that changed swiftly from shame and misery to vindictive fury. He knew that up in his dormitory, the fifteen-year-old would spit and swear, and vow to pay James Potter back if it were the last thing he ever did.

Severus Snape knew it was time for him to leave the memory.  
He had done what he had meant to. He had witnessed it again, stuck it to the very end. As he left the scene, he could still hear the cackles of laughter as the students dispersed.

Back in his office, Severus Snape leaned against his desk, breathing hard. It had been harder then he had thought. Harder than he had imagined to watch Potter submit him to something almost as bad as torture. Far more difficult to watch it all from the outside. And then, of course, he had had to hear himself throw away what may have been a chance of escape.

"_I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her." _The words rang in his ears and he felt, once again, a terrible feeling of shame and anger. He had never had anything against Lily. She was the one and only Gryffindor he had ever come close to liking. Indeed, the only Gryffindor who may have come close to liking him. And it had taken just ten words to loose her completely. She had never forgiven him for it. Or if she had, she had never shown it.

He thought of Harry Potter. This was all his fault, he though sullenly. He would have never felt compelled to relive this memory if he hadn't returned to his office to find Potter in the Pensieve. This thought made a fresh wave of fury come crashing over him as he realised all that Potter had seen.

One good thing, he thought angrily, was that he had at least returned to his office and caught Potter before he found out the worst. Two minutes more and he might have seen everything. As he thought of Potter he felt so angry that a mad, demented desire to break something welled up inside his chest. The jar he had repaired just after Potter had left the office was still sitting on his desk. He picked it up and threw it with every ounce of strength he possessed against the dank, stone walls of the dungeons. It shattered. Severus felt a very small amount of anger leave him. He sat down and put his head in his hands.

He thought of the vow he had made to himself that day, the vow to pay Potter back if it were the last thing he ever did. He had never got the chance. And then of course, Potter had gone and saved his life. Another, entirely different, reason to pay him back. Well, he had at least repaid that debt. Severus felt his lip curl as he thought of a young Harry Potter mounted on a bucking broomstick a good forty feet up in the air. He could have easily let him fall, let him be thrown off, hit the ground and die. But he hadn't. James had saved him and he had returned the favour by saving his son. That was surely as good a repayment as anyone could ask for.

And now for the first payment. Snape snarled again as he thought of Harry Potter. The boy would pay doubly. Snape's black eyes glittered as he contemplated the enjoyable fact that Harry Potter would suffer from now on.

……………………………………………………………….

Evil is a strong word, and one that could not wholly describe someone like Severus Snape, who was a man woven with so many complicities that he remained, even to the greatest minds, an unfathomable mystery in many respects. But where the name of Potter was concerned, no doubts could be raised. Severus Snape could be read as easily as a book. The hatred he felt for anyone with the name of Potter ran deeper than could even be imagined.

And if he had anything to do with it, Harry _James_ Potter was not going to enjoy his next few months at school.

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.A/N Well what do you think? Please read and review. This is just a oneshot. Chapter seven of my other story will be posted soon. 


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